


Eternal Kingdom: A Black Family Memoir; Written By Sirius Orion Black III

by RaysReads



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family Feels (Harry Potter), Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Execution, Gen, Minor Character Death, Murder, POV Sirius Black, THIS IS ANGST!!!!!, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, making that clear now, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaysReads/pseuds/RaysReads
Summary: Sirius Black.The Last of the Black Family.They are seen as warped and evil and mad.Sirius won't let them die that way.He may dislike their views.But this was his family.And he is the last.Follow my fanfiction tumblr to bug me for updates and see what im working on!https://writing-by-candlelight.tumblr.com/
Relationships: Sirius Black & Black Family
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

## Eternal Kingdom

## A Memoir

## Written By Sirius Orion Black III

My name is Sirius Orion Black, and I am the last of my family line.

If you are reading this then I am dead, and with me dies the last of the Blacks.

You may know of the Black family through various means.  
You may know us as the oldest magical family to ever exist.  
You may know us as the family with the most powerful magic to date.  
You may know us as the darkest and most traditional family in britain.  
You may know us as ‘that one family with the star names’.  
Or maybe the family with the most political power.  
Maybe you only know us because of the night of Halloween in 1981 when I was arrested for betraying the Potter family.

These are all valid reasons for knowing our family, and all but the last are true.

I did not betray the Potters that fateful night almost sixteen years ago. I wasn’t the chosen secret keeper, in fact, I was the decoy.  
Well. I guess that worked too well.

But more on me when we get to my chapter.

God.  
I can't believe i'm the one who has to do this. Who has to write our history because no one else ever will.  
Hiding here, cooped up in our old family home, the memories won't leave me alone. I know with this war going on I most likely won't live much longer, and no matter how much I sometimes hated this family, I can't leave this earthly plane while the world believes that we were only evil, only cruel, only hatred.

So here's a Memoir of all the Black family members I can remember Those disowned, dead, missing, tortured, buried namelessly, unborn, imprisoned, insane, and distantly related. Chapter by Chapter, Person by Person.

As told by me, Sirius Orion Black.  
Alone and Entrapped I am the Last.  
The Last Black…..

Oh God.


	2. Chapter 2

## The Family Tree

In order to understand this book you will have to understand the last few generations of the family tree. I'll try to keep it short and simple as the Black Family is very very old and my lessons memorizing the tree as a child aren't fond ones.  
I can recite it from memory and I don't even have to go downstairs to check. 

Just as well, i'm trying to avoid Molly and I've just spent all day stealing back the family heirlooms and locking them in a hidden room. I've cursed the rest so Mundungus keeps his filthy fingers off them.  
I might didn't love everyone in the family… but I can't let the heirlooms be thrown in the trash. I couldn't do that.

Anyway.

We’ll start way back in the 1800’s with 4 children.  
The original Sirius Black  
Phineas Nigellus Black, the most hated headmaster Hogwarts ever had  
Elladora Black  
And Iola Black

The original Sirius died at eight years of age, Iola was disowned for marrying a muggle and only Phineas had children.

Phineas married Ursula Flint and had five children.  
The second Sirius Black  
Phineas Black  
Cygnus Black  
Belvina Black   
And Arcturus Black

This is where it gets complicated.

Sirius Black II married Hesper Gamp and had 3 children.  
Arcturus Black  
Lycoris Black  
And Regulus Black the first

Phineas Black was disowned for being a Muggle rights supporter.

Cygnus Black married Violetta Bulstrode and had four children.  
Pollux Black  
Cassiopeia Black  
Marius Black  
And Dorea Black

Belvina Black married Herber Burke and had three children that will stay unmentioned as no one ever met them once they moved to Greece.

And Arcturus Black married Lysandra Yaxley and had, again, three children.  
Callidora Black  
Cedrella Black  
And Charis Black

Of Sirius Black II children only Arcturus married and had children himself. He married Melania Macmillan and had two children.  
Lucretia Black  
And Orion Black

Of Cygnus Blacks children only two gave birth, Pollux and Dorea.  
Marius was disowned for being a squib.  
Pollux married Irma Crabbe and had three children.  
Walburga Black  
Alphard Black  
And Cygnus Black  
Dorea Black married Charlus Potter and had one child.  
Fleamont Potter

Of Arcturus Blacks children all married and had children.  
Callidora married Harfang Longbottom and had a son and daughter.  
Charis married Caspar Crouch and had a son and two daughters.  
Cedrella was disowned for marrying a ‘blood traitor’ as she married Septimus Weasley and gave birth to Arthur Weasley and his two brothers. Arthur went on to marry Molly Prewett and become infamous for having seven children.

Walburga and Orion Black were second cousins as their parents (Cygnus and Arcturus respectively) parents (their grandparents) were brothers. And yet they married and had me, Sirius Black III, and my younger brother Regulus.

Orion's sister Lucretia (my Aunt) married but never had children.

Walburgas brother Alphard was disowned for supporting me even once I was disowned, lord rest his soul.

Her other brother Cygnus married Druella Rosier and had the infamous Black triplets.  
Bellatrix Black  
Andromeda Black  
And Narcissa Black  
As everyone knows, Bellatrix married Rodolphus Lestrange but was Barren.  
Andromeda was disowned after marrying muggleborn Ted Tonks and gave birth to Metamorphmagus and Auror Nymphadora Tonks.  
Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy and gave birth to Draco Malfoy.

Fleamont Potter went on to marry Euphemia Rookwood, sister to the convicted death eater and once head unspeakable Augustus Rookwood.  
They had one child, James Potter who married muggleborn Lily Evans and birthed Harry Potter.

That's it. That's the Black Tapestry. Very complex and large but there you go.


	3. Chapter 3

## Belvina Black

[image: a black and white picture of a young adult or teenager on stage in pointe shoes and a black leotard with a sheer flowing skirt with a hem of sewn diamonds and charcoal tights. She smiled and waved and often did jumps and pirouettes in her frame]

[image: an adult version of the teen in a long heavy black gown and elaborate updo. She whirled around and around with perfect posture holding a giggling baby Sirius above her head.]

Belvina Black was my great grand-aunt. I met her often in her last days but barely remember her. She died when I was three years old at the age of 76.

While she spent most of her life in Greece with her husband and children, her legacy shines strongest in France. She was the youngest Prima Ballerina in history at the age of 15. She would dance and dance and dance, her diaries describe the world falling away and becoming a melding blur of color.  
We have her costumes and pointe shoes up in the attic still, hundreds upon hundreds of dresses and leotards and skirts, and shoes, and jewelry, and hairpieces tucked away and gathering dust.  
The dress she wore for her last performance is in an enchanted display case up there. It's embroidered with dozens of tiny diamonds and rubies and emeralds and beads of pure gold. It's so heavy you can't even pick it up without strain and she danced in it for four hours, jumping and twisting and twirling looking like a living jewel.

Dancing was her first and only love, as she despised her husband and her children despised her in turn. Resenting her for not loving her arranged marriage. They wanted to be a perfect, happy family and she just couldn't give them that.

When she turned thirty her husband banned her from dancing.  
He felt that she loved it more than him, and he was right. He removed all music from the house and rarely ever let her leave.  
It was no wonder she committed suicide.

The family mourned her even before she died. Without her passion she was just a shell of herself. At her funeral, a thing I don't remember but have photos and diary entries on, everyone danced for 6 hours, celebrating her craft. All Blacks learn to dance, but no one was as good as her.

You know. I sealed most of the house from the Order. It felt…wrong…for them to wander the halls of this place. It didn't belong to them.  
Before anyone got here, I froze the family magic and transfigured the foyer and one hall of two floors each into the dark grimy place everyone was expecting.

One of the things I locked up was the ballroom. Belvina would turn in her grave knowing the room she spent most of her life in was locked. But I had no choice. I'm writing this from there, laying in the middle of this large and empty room.

The Black balls were once the most exclusive and dazzling thing every year, now it's just an empty ballroom covered in eons of dust and dirt. The once glittering chandeliers are covered in black grime, the wrought iron wall sconces are thick with rust, and the stained glass windows are cracked and shattered. There's ivy in the fractured marble floor where Aunt Cassiopeia (technically first cousin twice removed) barely missed Father with her bombarda one Yule.

But now wind is whistling through the cracks in the glass, colorful shards littering the ground like a mosaic.

I’m so cold.


	4. Chapter 4

## Arcturus Black II

[Image: a younger Arcturus lounges regally at his mahogany office desk with an ornate crystal tumbler of whiskey. His wife Melania Macmillan is at his side and they both stare seriously into the camera. It's obviously an official photo]

[Image: another photo seconds after sees Arturus’ mouth begin to twitch and Melania lifts her hand to her mouth before both break out in giggles gripping each other for purchase. They are young and if you read Melania's lips you can see her laughing about how ridiculous this is while Arturus reptiles that it is necessary, failing to keep in his own laughter.]

Arcturus was my grandfather, a loud man who could manipulate people better than anyone else I ever knew.  
His wife Melania was a delight, all golden curls and blue eyes. She was Bubbly yet strict and stood by Grandfather's side no matter what.

Grandfather didn't actually die all that long ago and I'm sad that I missed the funeral. I don't even know where he’s buried.

Grandfather played the Harp. I'm sitting at it right now actually, I needed to dredge up the memories somehow. He was a master at it, moving souls with a few plucks of his fingers. If you ever went to a Black ball you will know what i'm speaking about.   
I'm not sure if he used some kind of magic, but with that first note it's like all the air got sucked out of the room, like a vacuum was created the moment he placed his fingers to string.

If he played a happy song you felt and indescribable joy.  
If he played angry and fast one fights broke out.  
But if you were blessed with the gift of a sad song… those were always my favorites. He could probably bring Voldemort himself to tears. It brought more despair than dementors, and I am very qualified to say that.  
But there was something about it that was light… and hopeful. And somehow it made it bothe better and worse.

It took me a long time to find his harp and once I did I wished I had never gone looking.  
It's leaning heavily against the door of Andromeda's room, I don't know how it got there. The gold paint is mostly peeled off, the wood cracked and splintered, Its strings are all either missing or broken.  
Most of it’s from water damage, from the hole in the ceiling a few feet above and to the left of it.

I didn't have the heart to move it, I'll wait till it's Andromeda's turn and I have to get into her room.  
I've taken some of the remaining intact strings and woven them with some beads and jewels from Belvinas gowns, and a ribbon from one of her pointe shoes. Im wearing it as a bracelet now.

As I walked down the marble staircase, the drip drip drip of rainwater following me, I knew that I was going to see that broken Harp in my nightmares.


	5. Chapter 5

## Lycoris Black

[Image: Lycoris in a fighting stance holding a sword high, red hair so dark it's almost black glinting like blood. Grey eyes glinting in mirth he laughed as he slashed and jabbed at an opponent whose just out of frame.]

[Image: Lycoris stalked toward the camera with barely contained fury. He approached from the end of the hallway and whipped his wand to his side, growling and seething as flamelike sparks trailed behind him. He came closer and closer until all that was visible was his shoes, and then he disappeared. A glow appeared from behind the photographer before debris was flung into frame.]

My Uncle Lycoris was the only Black I was regularly afraid of. I had to get into the armoury for this entry and it took me 3 days to take down all the curses on the door that were activated upon his death.   
The whole room is a box made of tarnishing metal and looks like a medieval torture chamber. 

Why do we even own an Iron Maiden in the first place?!

Lycoris’ specialty was weaponry. He taught me how to fence when I was younger though I wasn't any good.   
The family was very surprised when he took to Weapons. 

You see, every person in the family has their ‘specialty’ something they are immediately good at and can become masters of. The Blacks, while dark, were never violent. We are a family of artists, of painters, and dancers, and sculptors, and explorers. For Uncle Lycoris to take to Weaponry was very strange. Metalwork would have been fine, but fighting?

It turned out, Lycoris was a protector first and foremost. He would fight to the death for someone already doomed if it meant they would have even a fighting chance.  
And I guess that's what he did in the end.

Doing research into this was very difficult, and finding Lycoris’ resting place even more so. He went missing one afternoon and never came back. It took me 2 months but I finally tracked him to a mass grave in India. 65 and unable to fight due to an injury, and he still used his dying breath to get some girls, from a magical sex traffiking ring he had saved them from, home. He fought for them, appearated them, and succumbed to his wounds.

I have no way of retrieving his body, but looking at his tarnished sword and all the fallen weapons in this thrice damned armoury, I feel a sense of pride for the most frightening of my relatives.

But he must forever stay in India, alone, having already been forgotten for almost 2 decades.

I feel a sort of kinship with the man.


	6. Chapter 6

# Regulus Black I

[Image: A 25 year old Regulus with his head thrown back in laughter. He is covered in flour and his hands are stained with food dye. His curls fall in his face before a three year old Orion waddles into frame, standing on the dining room table, and shoves a gingerbread man into an unprepared Regulus’ face, causing him to startle, step back, trip over a chair, and fall over.]

[Image: An older Regulus standing next to a cake hovering an inch off the floor. Its taller that him and completely white with buttercream, but an invisible diagonal line seems to separate it into two halves. The bottom half is covered in tiny multicoloured sugar shards that make it look like it's made of stained glass. The other half is covered in large sculptures of peacocks, fish, and fire so real and lifelike it seem to move. Even as the sculptures are completely still and mundane.]

Regulus Black, the first one that is, was the most kind hearted member of my family. 

While he did somewhat believe in the pureblood rhetoric, he never said an unkind word to anyone, nor did he ever think anything untoward.  
Ever.  
And I can say that with 100% certainty.

You see he was sick. They called it the Fae sickness, an illness of the mind that made one unable to lie, and for all thoughts to be said aloud. Can you imagine how horrible that must have been? Anything he thought, no matter how fleeting, was immediately spoken.

The only way he could clear his mind was by baking. And while his confections were incomparable, his true talent was sugar work.  
His sculpting never turned out well on anything other than sugar, but his sugar was so lifelike and textured and _real_ that it seemed to breathe and move even though he never used magic. He said it made the sugar ‘difficult’

And while he struggled, he was never unkind. He loved everyone, no matter how big or small, poor or rich.  
He loved them wholeheartedly and truly, as if they were his own children, which makes his manner of death so much sadder.

You see, I never really met my brother's namesake (my granduncle). All I have of him are stained diary entries, faded pictures, and a pensive of memory smoke.  
He died the year I was born, 2 months after in fact. But from what I learned, all he did is love, all he did is care. He offered every free second of his time to raising the children, to cooking for everyone, to sewing up clothing and providing in every way possible.  
He was the one who delivered me and my cousins for god's sake!

But the clearest memory of him in the familial Pensive is that of his execution.

Even 14 years after the heights of Grindelwalds reign, they were still looking for his inner circle members. It was known that there were 8 members, but it was not known who.  
An anonymous tip came in, told the ministry that Regulus was a member, and the ministry took him.  
He was the kindest person alive, his soul so pure he could cast a patronus, something unheard of in the Black family, even for me.  
And they took him.

His trial was rigged and unfair, most of those in the jury had family members killed by Grindelwald. And so locked him in the cage meat for murderers and rapists. And before the entire wizengamot they interrogated him, not letting him answer.  
Before finally asking the damning question: “Have you ever worked for or with Grindelwald?”  
He said No.  
_He said No._

And they ruled him guilty.  
They ruled him guilty even as he stood there with tears streaming down his face and begging his innocence.  
And when asked why they said “He’s a Black. He has to be guilty, Everyone knows they’re dark.”

I'm laying on the dining room table now.  
I can see a giant scorch mark from when Regulus tripped and threw a stock pot full of boiling sugar all over it. It slid and scorched a long mark into the wood and some of the sugar burnt into the table creating a smooth area of wood where it had to be sanded down.  
He's the genetic origin of Nymphadora Tonks' clumsiness, no doubt about it.

I can also see the mark in the wall where in a panic he wandlessly cracked it open and created a crawlspace for the children when they were besieged by Grindelwalds forces.  
He stood in front of it and was tortured for hours, refusing to open it.

I wish I had the kindness and bravery and cunning of that man.  
Of a man who was tortured for hours and refused to give up his family  
Of a man gathered himself, steeled his expression, cleaned himself up, and walked himself to his death without restraints, without guards, and without prompting.  
Of a man who stood calm and smiling before his executioner and when asked for his last words said:

> “I die today as a man innocent of that of which you have accused me. The only thing I remain guilty of is loving my family more than anything else. And so I shall not fight your decision.  
>  I die knowing I love each and every one of you here, even those who shall cast the spell upon me. For your actions of fear are not ones I blame you for. So know that even in death I forgive you. I loved life by now my time has come.  
>  You will have killed a man unable to lie.  
>  I forgive you.  
>  I love you.  
>  Goodnight,  
>  May there be stars on the other side.”

He was killed. He was found innocent an hour later when they looked at his medical record. 

As I eat a slice of cake, laying back on the dining room table, I listen to danse macabre. It was his favorite song and the one he listened to when baking. I raise a glass to him now and do hope wherever he is, there are stars.

Innocence never means safety.  
Not for me.  
Not for that Blacks.  
Not for anyone.

When will the torture end?


End file.
